


finds and shall find me unafraid

by procellous



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Being Theon Is Suffering, Disordered Eating, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Master/Slave, Past Rape/Non-con, Rehabilitation, Robb Stark is King in the North, Robb Stark is a Gift, Sansa Stark is a Gift, Suffering Theon Greyjoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:34:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28708260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/procellous/pseuds/procellous
Summary: Reek has always served his Master, but Reek has new masters now, and adjustments must be made.
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark
Comments: 64
Kudos: 94





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> working on projects you've already started posting is OUT posting a wip that's been in your drafts for months is IN
> 
> yes the title is from [invictus](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/51642/invictus) no it is not ironic

There were footfalls coming towards Reek.

Reek's eyes opened, no more than slits to let light in. Even that hurt. Reek could see two pairs of boots. One pair were Master's, but Reek didn't recognize the other pair.

Master kicked Reek in the ribs. Reek curled tighter around himself with a low noise of pain.

"Get up," Master commanded. "On your knees."

Reek obeyed. Every inch of Reek burned in agony. Master fisted a hand in Reek's hair and helped Reek up to his knees. Behind Master and the stranger were a few grim-faced men in armor and white livery, who looked horrified at how poorly Reek was behaving. Reek didn't remember seeing them before, but something about them seemed familiar.

The stranger was a little familiar too. He was handsomer than Master, with red curls falling around his shoulders and his blue eyes. He was broad and strong, the fur on his cloak making him seem even broader.

For a moment, Reek thought that he should have snow melting in his hair, but that was silly.

"I did train him," Master was saying, "though he needs reminding often. Just a bit of stubbornness—he was punished last night for it."

"I can see that," the stranger said. He reached down and lifted Reek's chin, studying Reek's face. "What happened to his teeth?"

"Oh, that. Doesn't smile as much as he used to, does he? I trained him to use his mouth for…better things. He lost a tooth any time he tried biting. It took a while, but it was worth it. You can be as rough as you like with him, he doesn't complain or fight back, just takes it like a good little whore."

"I see." The stranger looked angry. Reek must have done something to displease him.

"I'm sure he's to your liking. Completely obedient—you could run him through and he'd probably thank you. He won't betray you again."

Again? Reek didn't think Reek had ever seen the stranger before. But Master knew best, of course.

"Reek," Master said sweetly, "do you know who this is?"

Reek shook his head, gaze dropping to their boots. Reek would surely be punished for not knowing, but it was always worse if Reek was caught in a lie, and Reek wasn't smart enough to avoid being caught.

"My name is Robb Stark," the stranger said. "The King in the North."

The _king_. Reek's stomach roiled with fear.

"He's your new master," Master said. Reek's head snapped up in shock. Master was getting rid of Reek?

The king smiled at Reek, laying a hand on the top of Reek's head and stroking Reek's hair. Then he turned to the guards that were with him and nodded once, his hand not leaving Reek's head.

The guards grabbed Master and took him away. Reek was frozen in place, unable to do anything but watch through his tears as Master was dragged away. Reek wanted to move, to help Master, to do anything but cry, but Reek didn't dare. The king would surely beat Reek harshly for disobeying him, and Master had said that the king was Reek's new Master. 

"It's alright," the king said, still petting Reek. "Everything's alright. He's going to be executed, he can't hurt you anymore."

Master being executed was the least _alright_ thing that Reek could imagine.

"You're safe, Theon. Come on, let's get you cleaned up and out of those rags."

Reek looked up at the king, shaking. Everything about that was wrong. Reek wasn't Theon, Reek was Reek, and Reek wasn't allowed to bathe or take off the rags that Master had given Reek. Bathing would be a waste on Reek anyway, Reek was filthy down to the bones. It would just waste water and time. Maybe he wanted Reek to serve him while he bathed? Master liked that. He sometimes even poured a bucket of snowmelt on Reek before, so that Reek was as clean as Reek could ever be while Reek bathed him. It still didn't make Reek very clean, though. 

"Theon?" The king crouched next to Reek. "I promise, you're safe, I won't hurt you. Please, say something?"

Reek didn't dare. Master had been very clear that Reek was a dull, stupid, worthless creature and had nothing to say that anyone would ever want to hear, and so Reek was not allowed to talk.

But…Master was gone, and Reek's new Master wanted Reek to speak. He'd probably realize that Reek was too stupid to be allowed to speak and forbid it again.

"Yes, Master," Reek said, voice rough and quiet from disuse.

"No, Theon, I'm your friend, not your—do you really not remember me?"

"I'm sorry, Master."

The king sighed. He looked sad. Reek braced for a punishment. "Stand up," the king ordered.

Reek obeyed, managing to get upright without falling once, even without Master's help. Tears of agony filled Reek's eyes, but Reek blinked them away quickly, hoping the king wouldn't notice them.

It didn't work. "You're more badly hurt than I thought," the king said. "I'm going to have to carry you to the baths, aren't I?"

Reek wanted to sob in fear. If the king decided that Reek was too badly damaged, who knew what would happen to Reek? Master had sometimes been angry at Reek for being too hurt after a punishment to serve properly, but Master had always been kind and merciful and helped Reek with a hand in Reek's hair, or a sharp swat to make Reek move.

"I—I'm sorry, Master, I can walk, I promise."

The king frowned, and Reek quailed. "Are you cold?" he asked.

Reek shook his head as a draft blew through and made Reek tremble.

The king's frown deepened. "Please don't lie to me," he said, and Reek flinched in anticipation of the punishment.

The king took off his heavy fur cloak and draped it over Reek's shoulders. Reek clutched at it so that it didn't fall off. It was the finest thing Reek had ever touched, soft and warm, and Reek would surely be punished for dirtying it, but it would be worth it just to have touched something so soft and so warm. It was like the dogs, but even softer. Reek's hand sunk deeply into the fur.

The king lifted Reek easily, cradling Reek against his chest, the cloak still wrapped around Reek.

It was so warm. Reek had never been so warm before.

Reek was confused. Reek was worthless scum, less than a worm, who didn’t deserve warmth or comfort or being carried. Reek didn’t think Reek had ever been carried before. Nobody wanted to touch Reek, Reek was Reek, and Reek was a filthy disgusting thing. 

The king took Reek to the baths. The heat of the hot springs soaked into Reek's skin, warming Reek. Reek wasn’t allowed near them because Reek would taint them, but maybe it would be alright if Reek just didn’t get in. Reek couldn’t disobey.

Maybe the king wanted Reek to tend to him while he bathed? Master liked that. But Reek was forbidden from the baths. Maybe the king didn’t know that Reek would taint the springs? No, that was impossible, Master had said that the king was Reek’s new master, and Reek never knew more than Reek's master. 

There was a wooden tub with water in it. The king set Reek down next to it, and began taking off his breastplate and jerkin and doublet. That made more sense. Reek was to tend to him while he bathed. But the king wasn’t taking off his boots or trousers, or his shirt; just rolling up his sleeves and revealing strong forearms. 

“Come on, Theon, you need a bath. I won’t think you’re ugly or something. You must want to get out of those rags, right? There’s clean clothes waiting for you, but you have to be clean too.”

Reek didn’t understand most of what the king said. It didn’t seem to be meant for Reek, but the only people in the room were the king and Reek. 

“Come on, take off those rags and get in the tub.”

Oh. That was an order. But Reek wasn’t supposed to take off the clothes Master had given him, and Reek wasn’t supposed to get in the water. Master had forbidden both of those things. But…Master had given Reek to the king, and the king had given Reek a new order. 

Reek hurried to obey, bracing for a blow. Taking too long to obey was bad, and Reek would be punished for it. Obeying had never felt so wrong. Master had never tested Reek like this before. Reek didn’t understand what was going on, but Reek never did. Reek could obey, though. Reek just had to be obedient, and maybe Reek wouldn’t be punished as harshly. 

The water felt…warm, on the parts of Reek’s skin where Reek could feel things like warmth. The king smiled encouragingly at Reek, handing Reek a bar of soap. 

“Go on, wash up. Let me know if you need help.”

More orders. Reek took a deep breath and started scrubbing. The water came away greyish brown, filthy and disgusting. The king would see and know that Reek was tainting everything and let Reek out and wouldn’t make Reek do this again…

“Oh, gods, you’re bleeding!”

Reek didn’t understand. Reek was always bleeding. Reek scrubbed harder. 

“Stop that.” The king caught Reek's wrist, stilling Reek. “Doesn’t that hurt?” 

Everything hurt Reek. That was what Reek was for. Reek didn’t understand why the king sounded bothered by that. 

“Here, let me.” The king took the bar of soap and wiped it across Reek’s back. “You just need to take the dirt off, not your skin, too.”

Oh. The ashen color must have been his skin, not another layer of dirt, and of course the king would want to flay Reek himself, not have Reek do it. Reek was probably doing it wrong. Reek didn’t know that soap could flay, but Reek was stupid like that. 

The king’s hands didn’t hurt. Reek didn’t know why. Nothing made sense anymore. 

“There, that’s your body done. Let’s replace the water and we can get your face and hair, alright?”

More baths? Reek shook as the king took Reek out of the tub, wrapping a towel around Reek and rubbing gently. 

“Can you keep doing that for me while I replace the water, without hurting yourself?”

Reek nodded hesitantly. 

“Good. Stay put, alright?”

Reek watched as the king drained the tub and replaced the water in it, bucket by bucket. Why didn’t he call a servant for that? Even if he didn’t want Reek to do it, there were lots of servants in Winterfell. The king didn’t have to do that himself. 

“Come on, time to get back in.” Reek obeyed. The king smiled, reaching for Reek’s face, and Reek flinched away. 

_Stupid Reek_ , Reek scolded. The king sighed.

“It’s alright,” the king said. His fingers brushed Reek’s cheek, wiping away dirt. He picked up a cloth and wiped again, a bit firmer. “Tell me if I’m hurting you.”

Reek nodded. The king’s orders were strange and baffling, but Reek didn’t need to think, Reek just needed to obey. If Reek could just obey, without hesitating or thinking or getting confused, Reek might avoid punishment. 

The king sang under his breath as he washed Reek’s face, a song that Reek didn’t know, but somehow Reek recognized the tune. Reek had heard it before, somewhere. 

This was…nice. The water was warm, and the king’s hands were gentle, and it all felt strange and dreamlike. Maybe it was a dream. Reek’s dreams were usually as bad as waking, on the rare occasions that Reek had a dream, but this one wasn’t so bad, as dreams went. 

“I don’t think there’s much we can do about your hair,” the king said, passing his fingers across it. “I’m sorry, I’m going to have to cut it.”

Reek didn’t understand why the king was saying _I’m sorry_ to Reek, like it mattered what Reek thought of it. Reek's hair belonged to the king, just like the rest of Reek.

“Close your eyes for a moment,” the king said, and poured water on Reek’s head. “Scissors,” the king muttered, rummaging through something. Reek didn’t turn around to look; it was always better if Reek didn’t. “Scissors, scissors, here we are.” Reek heard scissors snipping at the air and tried not to flinch. Would the king want to see Reek flinching, or calmly waiting for punishment? Reek could sometimes predict what Master wanted. “Alright, let’s get your hair dealt with.”

Reek stayed very still as the king snipped Reek’s hair to an acceptable length. It was…short. The air was cold on Reek’s ears and neck. 

“There, that’s…well, it’s not great, but it’ll do. It can grow back.”

The door opened and Lady Bolton walked in, carrying some folded clothes. She half-sobbed when she saw Reek, rushing to his side and grabbing Reek tightly, the clothes dropped in the king’s lap.

“Theon! Oh, you’re alive, are you hurt? Look at you, oh!” She squeezed tighter. 

“Reek, my lady,” Reek reminded her. She’d mistaken Reek for Theon before, Reek thought, though Reek’s memories were bad. Reek didn’t know who Theon was, but obviously he mattered to her. 

“Oh,” she said. She let go of Reek, her hands fluttering. “Right, of course. I brought clean clothes for you. Come on, out of the tub, let’s get you dried off.” She wrapped a dry towel around Reek, patting Reek dry. “Look at you,” she said again, “you’re clean. It’s a shame about your hair, but I suppose there wasn’t anything for it.”

“It was matted, and I saw lice,” the king said. 

“Have you eaten anything today?” she asked Reek. 

Reek shook his head. Reek wasn’t sure how long _today_ had been, but Reek had snuck the rat what Reek thought was a few days ago. 

“Alright. I have food in our solar, you can have some once you’re dressed.” She kissed the king’s cheek and took the folded clothes back from him, passing them to Reek. “Here you go, I don’t know how well they’ll fit, but we can take them in if they’re too big.”

Reek glanced at the king. Lady Bolton had never given Reek orders before, and Reek wasn’t sure if the king wanted Reek to follow them or not. 

“Go on,” the king prompted after a long moment. “Do you want help with it?”

Reek shook his head, looking at the clothes. They were so fine, Reek would ruin them. They were clean white, with grey embroidery on the collar and cuffs. 

Reek put them on quickly, waiting for punishment. Reek had taken far too long to obey the orders. 

“Don’t you look handsome,” Lady Bolton said, draping the king’s cloak around Reek’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s get you fed. Robb, will you find Hilde and ask her for another plate?” She took Reek’s hand and led Reek upstairs. 

Reek followed, reeling. Lady Bolton had ordered the king around. Was she in charge? That couldn’t be right, Master had given Reek to the king, and Reek didn’t know much, but even Reek knew that kings were always in charge. 

Reek could ask Lady Bolton, maybe. Reek hadn’t seen her in a while (Reek remembered Master saying that he had killed her, but that couldn’t possibly be right, Reek was too stupid to be worth lying to, and Lady Bolton was here, so she wasn’t dead, so Master hadn’t told Reek that she was) but she had been kind to Reek, Reek remembered that. She’d be angry with Reek for his impertinence, of course, but then Reek would know what was going on, and the punishment would be worth it. 

Reek waited until they were in the solar and Lady Bolton had settled down into her seat, Reek standing behind her. Reek's stomach cramped at the sight of the food. Reek couldn’t remember how long it had been since Reek had eaten. 

“Sit,” she ordered. Reek knelt by her side. 

“Lady Bolton?” Reek said. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course you may,” she said. 

“Please, what’s going on?” That was too vague. Reek bit his lip. 

“Didn’t Robb explain it to you?”

Reek shook his head. Robb was…the king. King Robb. Master Robb? Reek wasn’t sure. 

“Alright. First, I’m not Lady Bolton anymore. Do you…do you remember escaping with me?”

Escaping? Reek had never, would never, try to escape. 

Reek’s expression must have been enough of an answer, because Lady Bolton sighed. “You helped me escape, and protected me. I went south and joined my brother’s forces, and we retook the North. Ramsay pretended that he had never betrayed us when he surrendered, but he’s going to be executed for his crimes once everything settles.”

Reek’s head hurt. Nothing she was saying made any sense, and Reek was more confused than ever. 

“This isn’t helping, is it?” she asked, and sighed. “Here’s what you need to know. I’m not Lady Bolton anymore, I’m Lady Stark, and I want you to call me Sansa, alright?”

“Yes, Lady Sansa.” Finally, clear orders. 

“Good. My brother is Robb. We’re ruling Winterfell now, not Ramsay. None of his orders matter anymore, you don’t have to follow them. That means you’re allowed to bathe, change your clothes, all of that.”

Reek’s eyes widened. 

“We’re not going to punish you,” she promised. “Neither of us are. You need time to adjust and recover, and so you won’t be punished, understand?”

“I understand, Lady Sansa.” Reek didn’t know how long the not-being-punished would last, but that didn’t matter. Reek would learn what his new masters wanted, and Reek would obey. Reek was slow, though, so it would probably take longer than their patience for Reek to learn. That was fine. The punishments would help Reek learn.

“Do you have any other questions?”

“How do you want me to serve you?”

“First, you’re going to eat, and then…” She tapped her finger against her chin. “Go around the castle and find all the Bolton sigils. Don’t take them down, just list where they are, and then report back to me at sundown. Don’t worry if you can’t find all of them today, just do what you can.”

“Yes, Lady Sansa.”

“Good.” Lady Sansa patted the top of his head, smiling. “Very good. Now, come sit at the table and eat with me.”

Reek stared at Lady Sansa. She knew that Reek wasn’t allowed on the furniture. But…she had said that none of Master’s orders mattered anymore. It must be a test.

Reek perched on the edge of the chair, hesitant to fully sit on it like she was doing, and stared at the plate and utensils, shaking like a leaf. She’d said to eat, but Reek felt too ill to swallow anything. Master would see. Master would know that Reek was pretending to be a person again and—

Lady Sansa put her hand on Reek's. “Do you want to kneel again?”

Reek nodded, desperately. 

“Alright. Go ahead.”

Reek sank back down to his knees, head resting against her leg. Her hand drifted down to pet Reek. 

“You still need to eat,” she said. “Here, I’ll feed you.” She held out a piece of meat, bite-sized. Reek knew this: when Master was in a rare good mood, or wanted to show off how well-trained his Reek was, this was how Reek would be fed. Reek leaned forward, taking the meat in his teeth, careful not to bite Lady Sansa. 

Reek’s stomach cramped with hunger when Reek swallowed, as though reminding Reek how long it had been since Reek was last allowed to eat. (Reek had been bad and ate a rat since then, but Master didn’t know about that. The rat didn’t count, anyway, Reek had only been hungrier afterwards.)

“How long has it been since you last ate?”

“I don’t know, my lady.” Reek never knew how long had passed in the darkness of the dungeons. 

“That won’t do. You’re to eat three times a day from now on, I’ll tell the cooks to feed you.” 

Reek couldn’t remember the last time Reek had been allowed to eat three times in a single day. Reek wasn't sure that Reek had ever been allowed to eat three times in a single day. Would Reek even be able to eat that much? She didn’t say they had to be much, maybe Reek could eat something small three times a day, and that would count as obedience. 

She held out another bite of meat and Reek took it. Reek liked this, the quiet obedience of it. Reek was a good dog for his master. 

The best part was that there was little danger of disobedience. Reek just had to not bite Lady Sansa, not let his teeth graze her skin, and Reek was good at that. 

Time slipped by. Lady Sansa was petting his head now, letting Reek doze by her side. There was a dull ache in Reek’s knees from kneeling for so long. 

“Hello there,” Lady Sansa said, smiling at Reek. Why was she smiling? “You dozed off. It’s alright, we’re not mad.”

 _We?_ Reek thought, and then noticed that the king was sitting at the table with Lady Sansa. 

“You looked like you needed rest,” she continued. “Would you like to go to bed?”

That was a trap, but Reek knew the right answer. “No, my lady.” Reek’s knees protested standing, and sleep really did sound welcome, but Reek had to do the task Lady Sansa had assigned, first. “You wanted me to find all the Bolton banners for you.”

“Alright then. Here.” Lady Sansa handed Reek a wax tablet. “To write your notes on. I don’t want you to just recite them for me, I won’t remember them all.”

“Yes, my lady."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, or something.

Lady Sansa’s task wasn’t hard, Reek decided. Winterfell was bustling with people, but Reek was good at staying out of sight, and Reek had a task. There weren’t many Bolton sigils around—Reek saw people taking them down, and they were being replaced with a wolf sigil that something told Reek was the Starks’. 

They were missing some; Reek knew, because Reek had put them up. They were in hard-to-reach places, out of the way, and Reek wrote them all down in the tablet. Reek’s hand was clumsy and slow and large, and looking at it made Reek hurt, somehow. 

The sun was setting already, and by the time Reek had written that there were banners in the upper garrison in the outer wall, it was sinking below the horizon. 

Lady Sansa had wanted Reek’s report at sundown. Reek ran back to her solar, ignoring the pain in his feet and knees, desperate to not be late. 

Reek knocked twice at her solar door, trying to catch his breath before she saw Reek. 

“Come in!” she called, and Reek half-collapsed to his knees inside the doorway.

“I’m sorry I’m late, Lady Sansa,” Reek said. 

“No, no, you’re just in time. Come in. Did you run all the way here?”

“Yes, my lady.” 

“Are you in pain?”

Of course Reek was in pain. Reek was never not in pain. 

She sighed. “Please don’t do that again. I won’t punish you for being late. I’d rather you take your time and avoid hurting yourself.”

“I understand, my lady.” Reek tried to avoid shaking too obviously. Reek had been stupid and displeased her and now she would punish Reek and—

“Did you bring me the list?”

“Yes, my lady.” Reek held it out, trying to fix his posture. Stupid, clumsy, ugly Reek. 

“Excellent, thank you.” She took it and crouched beside Reek. “Remember what I told you? You won’t be punished. Come have some supper.”

More food?

Reek wanted to hide. Reek wanted to refuse. Reek wanted to tell Lady Sansa that Reek wasn’t hungry, that Reek shouldn’t eat so much, that Reek would be sick if Reek tried to eat anything more. 

All of that was bad, though. Bad and disobedient and ungrateful and Lady Sansa had said she wouldn’t punish Reek but that didn’t mean Reek should start disobeying her. She might decide that Reek shouldn’t get food at all, since that wasn’t a punishment, and it had been so nice to sit by her feet and eat from her hand. She hadn’t slapped Reek once. 

Lady Sansa led Reek back to the table and set down a flat cushion. 

“Your knees looked like they hurt earlier,” she explained. “Go ahead and sit on the cushion, it’s alright.”

Reek wanted to say that Reek didn’t deserve it, that Reek was filthy and dirty and disgusting. 

“Look at me,” Lady Sansa said, gently. “You’ve bathed and you’re clean now, remember? It’s alright. Now sit, please.”

Reek knew an order when Reek heard one. Reek sat on the cushion, berating himself for being so stupid and disobedient. Lady Sansa had told Reek to sit on the cushion, and Reek had thought that Reek knew better, which was _absurd_ , because Reek barely knew anything. 

“That’s better, isn’t it?” She stroked Reek’s hair, what was left of it. “Now, open up.”

Reek took the bite of meat from her hands, chewing slowly. She’d get bored eventually, and Reek would be able to avoid eating too much. 

She put another piece to his lips when Reek finished the first piece, and Reek ate it. 

Reek wasn’t sure what to do. Not just with—this, being fed twice in one day for some reason, but in general. Lady Sansa seemed to be in charge of Reek. Had the king given Reek to her? Or was it just while the king was busy and didn’t want to deal with Reek? Master had—Reek couldn’t quite remember it, but Master had let Reek serve Lady Sansa, maybe. So maybe this was like that, and Reek would serve the king whenever the king wanted Reek, and serve Lady Sansa the rest of the time. 

Or maybe it wouldn’t be anything like that at all. Reek was stupid, after all, and could never manage to guess right for Master.

“Very good,” Lady Sansa said, feeding Reek another bite. “You’re doing very well.” Reek wasn’t sure what the praise was for, but it did feel warm. 

Reek drifted off again, eating when she put a bite to his mouth and leaning into her hand when she petted Reek, and tried not to think about how little Reek understood. People came into the room and left again, speaking to Lady Sansa and ignoring Reek. She didn’t stop petting and feeding Reek the whole time. It was very strange. Reek hadn’t been good at all, and yet…

“Darling,” Lady Sansa said, lightly tapping Reek’s head. She smiled when Reek looked up. “There you are. I have a treat for you here, a honey cake. Would you like it?”

Reek nodded slowly, not sure what the trick would be. Maybe Lady Sansa was going to starve Reek for long enough that Reek would need to be very well-fed before? It would explain why Reek had been given so much food. 

“All you have to do is say something for me, can you do that?”

Reek nodded again. This made more sense. Reek would earn food by being good. 

“I want you to say ‘My name is Theon Greyjoy.’”

Reek’s mouth opened. Reek’s throat closed up. Reek wanted to be good. Reek wanted to say what she wanted Reek to say. Reek couldn’t make any sound come out. 

Reek looked down. Reek was shaking all over. 

“Oh, darling,” Lady Sansa said. “It’s alright.” She sounded disappointed. 

Reek was being bad, Reek was being very bad. This was a test and Reek was failing. 

“I’m sorry, Lady Sansa,” Reek managed. Reek’s face was wet. 

“I know, darling. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have asked so much of you so early.”

If Reek tried to understand that, Reek would go mad. Madder than Reek already was, at least. 

“You’ve been very brave,” Lady Sansa said. “I think you should get the honey cake anyway, for being so brave and good.”

Reek shook his head. That was obviously more of the test, and Reek had been bad and weak and couldn’t even say a simple sentence that Lady Sansa wanted Reek to say. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I was _bad_ , Lady Sansa,” Reek said. Didn’t she know that? “I didn’t earn it.”

“You were very brave, and I want to reward you for trying, darling. Maybe half the honey cake, how does that sound?”

Reek trembled. Master would have punished Reek for arguing by now. “As you wish, Lady Sansa,” Reek managed. 

“Do you want me to feed it to you, or would you like to eat it on your own?” She was stroking Reek’s hair again. 

“I…” Reek wished that Reek was smarter. Everything would make more sense if Reek wasn’t stupid and useless, Reek was certain. “Would you…”

“Do you want me to feed you? You can just nod or shake your head.”

Reek nodded, grateful that she wasn’t making Reek talk. 

“Good,” she said. “Very good.” She held a flaky, sticky bit of pastry to Reek’s mouth. “Go on, you’ve earned it.”

Reek leaned forward and took it. Crumbs were stuck to her hand. Should Reek try licking them off her fingers? 

She lifted her hand, and Reek tried not to look too relieved that she wasn’t making Reek try to guess what she wanted. The cake was so sweet, so much sweeter than anything else Reek had ever tasted. 

There was another piece in front of Reek. Reek looked up at Lady Sansa, who smiled encouragingly. 

“Go on.”

Reek ate it, trying not to think about how sick Reek might be. The last time Reek had eaten this much, Reek had stolen some food and Master had decided to punish Reek by making Reek eat more, and more, until Reek was sick all over the floor, and then Master had made Reek clean up all of it with his tongue. Reek had learned the lesson. Reek was bad and greedy and stupid, and Master knew how much Reek should eat. 

The memory made Reek’s gorge rise and stomach roil traitorously. 

“Darling, what’s wrong?”

Reek shook his head. Reek didn’t dare ask for a favor, not when Reek had been so bad already. Lady Sansa was in charge now. Maybe making Reek eat more and more was her punishment for how bad Reek had been. 

“Are you feeling full?”

Reek blinked in confusion. Reek didn’t know what that meant. 

“Do you want more food?”

Reek shook his head. Reek did want more food, his stomach sore with hunger, but Reek would just eat and eat and eat without Master’s guidance. Even without Master, Reek could still be good. 

“Alright then.” She smiled down at Reek. “Is there anything you want to do before you go to sleep?”

“Is there anything you require of me, Lady Sansa?” It was dangerous to answer a question with a question, but sometimes Reek wasn’t punished for it. 

Sometimes Reek was, though. Reek could never be sure. 

“No, I’m about to go to bed myself.” She stroked Reek’s hair, and Reek tried not to look too much like Reek was enjoying it, lest it be taken away as punishment. “I think Robb’s picked out a room for you, let’s go find him.” She held out a hand. Reek hesitated, and then kissed her palm. 

Lady Sansa laughed softly. When Reek glanced up, her cheeks were faintly pinker than they had been.

“I meant to help you up, darling. Give me your hand.”

Oh. Of course. Reek’s cheeks heated with shame, giving her his hand. Reek didn’t think she had a knife, so Reek’s fingers wouldn’t be flayed or cut off, but they might be broken…

She gently tugged Reek to his feet, squeezing his hand gently. “There you go, let’s find Robb, alright?”

Reek nodded, numb. She hadn’t punished Reek. She…maybe she would give Reek over to the king for punishment? Since Reek belonged to the king, maybe she wasn’t supposed to punish Reek without the king’s permission. That made some sense. Reek couldn’t remember Lady Sansa punishing Reek when she was Lady Bolton—though Reek’s memory was bad and maybe she had and—

“Shh, shh, it’s alright,” Lady Sansa was saying. “What—hmm. What do you think is going to happen?”

“You’re taking me to the king to be punished?” Reek tried. 

“Why do you think you’re going to be punished?”

Reek knew this game. Lady Sansa wanted Reek to confess to being bad, and Reek was stupid and sure to tell her about something that she didn’t know about, and Reek would be punished for it and for whatever she did know about and Reek was torn between simply falling to his knees and begging for mercy or just confessing to everything bad Reek had done. 

Reek opened his mouth and no sound came out, only a horrible hitched sob, then another. 

“Shh, shh, it’s alright, it’s alright, darling, shh,” Lady Sansa said, stroking Reek’s hair. “Do you remember what I told you earlier? Nobody will punish you, not for a while, so that you have time to adjust. It’s alright, darling. Everything’s fine.”

Oh. Right. Reek was being stupid again, stupid Reek couldn’t even remember that Lady Sansa was being merciful. 

“It’s been a long day. Let’s go find Robb so that you can get some sleep, alright? He’s picked out a room just for you.”

Reek followed her down the hall, into Master’s solar. Except it wasn’t Master’s anymore, it was the king’s—he was standing by the fire, his face shadowed. He looked enormous in the flickering light, like a god in human form. 

Reek fell to his knees and Lady Sansa sighed. Was Reek not supposed to kneel? Lady Sansa had liked having Reek kneel for her, and Reek wanted to be good…

“You don’t have to kneel to me,” the king said. “Bad enough everyone else does it, I don’t want it from you, too.”

Reek glanced to Lady Sansa and hesitantly stood. His knees ached and threatened to give out, protesting the weight. 

“You really don’t remember me, do you?” the king said softly, stroking Reek’s face. 

“I’m sorry, Master,” Reek said, bracing for punishment. 

The king closed his eyes for a moment, then took Reek’s hand and led Reek into a bedchamber just down the hall. Reek trembled in fear.

“This is where you’ll be sleeping. There’s clothes for you in the chest.”

Reek glanced nervously at the large bed. “W-where am I to sleep, Master?” Reek asked, bracing for the blow. Reek hoped Reek would be allowed to sleep by the fire. It was dirty, but it meant Reek wasn’t cold. 

“In the bed,” the king told Reek. “Go on.”

Reek flinched as the king led Reek to the bed. Reek knew Reek shouldn’t have flinched; it annoyed Master, except when it amused him, but it was always safer not to flinch. The king was Reek’s master now. If he wanted to fuck Reek, then Reek would obey. 

The king frowned a little when he saw Reek’s flinch, but didn’t say anything, only kept holding Reek’s hand. 

Reek didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what the king wanted. Reek had to be guided onto the bed, but at least Reek managed to be good and spread his legs once Reek was on the bed. Maybe the king would be a little merciful to Reek. 

“What are you doing?” the king asked, resting a hand on Reek’s back. 

“My body is yours, Master,” Reek said. “I’m yours to use as you wish.”

“ _No_ ,” the king said, sounding—Reek wasn’t sure. “I don’t—no.” The king drew the covers up around Reek, tucking the furs around Reek. “Go to sleep,” he ordered, and Reek couldn’t even be relieved that it was a clear order. Everything else was too strange and confusing. Why was Reek in a bed?

Reek heard the king’s footfalls fading away, the door closing behind him. Reek lay awake. The furs were warm and the bed was soft and all of that was wrong. If Reek was warm, it was because the dogs were sleeping on Reek. If Reek touched something soft—Reek didn’t think Reek had ever touched anything soft. 

Most confusingly of all, Reek had been bad, and hadn’t been punished. 

Reek must have been very bad, because Master had never refused to use Reek, and Reek didn’t understand what had happened, but the king sounded displeased, and that meant that Reek hadn’t pleased him, which meant that Reek had been bad. But Reek was still in a warm, soft bed by a warm fire. If Master saw, Reek would be beaten for pretending to be a person. 

Reek climbed out of bed. Reek had been bad and didn’t deserve the bed or the fire’s warmth. Reek crawled over to the coldest corner of the room, curling up against the hard stone. 

Reek glanced at the bed. The king had told Reek to sleep in the bed. Sleeping on the floor would disobedient and bad, but…

Reek’s head hurt trying to understand the strange new masters and their strange new games. 

If Reek slept on the floor, Reek might not be allowed to sleep in a bed again, since Reek didn’t appreciate their generosity. If Reek slept on the bed, Reek might be punished and beaten for taking something Reek hadn’t earned. It was safer to be in bed, Reek decided. Reek would follow orders as best as Reek could. 

Reek climbed back into the bed. It felt wrong to be in the bed like this. Nobody had used Reek, Master wasn’t snoring, the room was silent and still but for the soft sounds of the banked fire. 

Reek curled up at the foot of the bed, near the fire. It wasn’t _right_ , Reek wasn’t warming Master’s feet and Reek wouldn’t be kicked in the night, but it was better than trying to sleep under the covers like a person. 

Reek laid awake, trying to sleep. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> something vaguely resembling a break

Sansa glanced up as the door slammed shut. Robb looked like he was about to cry. 

“How do you do it,” he asked, voice hoarse. He didn’t need to elaborate. 

“You just have to remember that he’s still in there, he’s just terrified.”

“But he doesn’t need to be, we’re not going to hurt him!” The first tears slipped out of his eyes. 

“He doesn’t know that, not really. Not yet. It’s going to take time for it to sink in. Once it does, he should start improving.”

“Was he like this when…” He trailed off, and Sansa knew what he was alluding to. She’d never heard him actually acknowledge that she had married Ramsay.

“No, he knew who I was, and remembered being Theon. I think…whatever happened since he saved me, I think he decided to just crush all of that down where it couldn’t hurt him anymore. It’s not that he doesn’t know us, I think, it’s that he’s not remembering us, if that makes sense?”

“So he’s choosing this?”

“On some level, yes. To protect himself. This is a good thing, Robb. It means that all we have to do is make sure he’s safe enough, that he _feels_ safe enough, that he can make another choice.”

“But he wasn’t safe when you brought him back the first time, was he? Ramsay was still here.”

“That was different. That was—being Reek wasn’t protecting him at that moment. It’s not…I don’t think it would work this time, because then he knew that he had been Theon, and—hmm. I think that then he knew he was choosing to be Reek. He knew he had been Theon, and was choosing to be Reek, because it was safer. But right now, I think he’s forgotten that he chose to be Reek, and doesn’t know that he can choose to be Theon. Just remembering being Theon hurts too much, and so he doesn’t.”

“I just want my friend back,” Robb whispered. "I want…"

“I know.” Sansa squeezed his hand. “I know.” She'd always known he loved Theon, that had never been in doubt, but she had never known what form that love had taken. She knew the shape of Theon's love for him, but neither would share details enough for her to know if it was reciprocated. She half-suspected neither had ever known, either. 

“I wish he was dead.” Robb was crying in earnest now. “I wish I had found his bones in the dungeons. I wish I could just mourn him.”

“You don’t wish that,” Sansa said, gently. “He’s still in there. He’s scared and in pain, and it’s going to take a while, but he’s still Theon underneath.”

“He. When I led him to his room and told him to sleep, he was…he was expecting me to _use_ him. He thought I was going to…to…”

“He thinks he belongs to you. He wants to please you, and he’s using the only tools he knows he has. He’ll get used to us and adjust. Just be patient.”

“I know, I know.” 

“Want me to check on him?”

“Please.” Robb sighed. 

Sansa kissed his cheek and walked down the hall to Theon’s room. It was the same one he had before the war, when they were all together in Winterfell. She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. 

She eased the door open. The bed was nearly empty, but for a small, curled figure at the foot, close to the fire. 

Her heart ached. Theon didn’t even have a blanket. His eyes were closed, but she could tell he wasn’t asleep—he was tense, and she suspected he had been since she walked in, perhaps longer. _Poor thing_ , she thought. He must be terrified.

She picked up a blanket from the bed and draped it over him, tucking it around him. Theon was as taut as a bowstring, trembling from fear or cold or both. 

Probably both. 

“Sleep well,” she whispered, kissing his temple.

Grey Wind padded into the room, jumping up on the bed and nosing at Theon curiously. If there was any chance that Theon was asleep before, he was certainly awake now; rigid as a board, eyes open in the darkness. 

Grey Wind curled up around Theon, resting his head on Theon’s side and his paw draped over Theon’s hip. 

She left them to it; Theon was relaxing by shades, hand buried in Grey Wind’s ruff, and Sansa hoped that he might actually sleep tonight. 

Sansa couldn’t sleep. Every time she slipped into a doze, memories of Ramsay and Joffrey and Baelish flooded back, overwhelming her. Grasping hands reached from the past into her present, tearing at her, dragging her back. 

She lost track of the times she woke up screaming, covered in a cold sweat, gasping for air. 

Her door opened, and for a moment she thought it would be Ramsay. 

“They’re getting worse, aren’t they?” Robb said. 

“They are,” she admitted. “Have yours been?”

“They have. Quieter than yours, though.”

“Not hard.” She mustered a wan smile. “Join me? They’re always better when someone’s with me.”

Robb climbed into bed beside her, curling around her. Sansa smiled. Robb was solid and warm and _safe_. She could feel herself relaxing.

“Do you think I did the right thing? Giving Theon his own room? What if…” Robb’s sigh ruffled her hair. 

“I don’t know,” Sansa said. “If something goes wrong, then we can move him in here, or into your rooms. It’s alright.”

“Not into my rooms,” Robb said. “I don’t…he thought I was going to…I don’t want him to feel like he owes me, and I can’t. I can’t see that again.”

Sansa rolled over and tugged him close. “Everything will be alright, Robb. I promise. We’ll be alright. All of us.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can. We’re alive and we’re in Winterfell. We’ll be alright.”

“But Theon…”

“Is hurting and scared, and in time will realize that he’s safe.”

“What if he doesn’t, Sansa? What if whatever Ramsay did to him was too much, and Theon is gone forever?”

The thought curdled her stomach. “Then we’ll…we’ll make sure he’s comfortable and safe. What else would we do, turn him out into the snow?”

“Of course not!” Robb sounded horrified. 

“Exactly. No matter what, he’s safe with us, right?”

“Right.” Robb sighed. “We need to figure out what to tell his sister, don’t we.”

“Nothing, for now.” Sansa frowned. “The situation on the Islands is too unstable, we don’t want information about Theon to fall into the wrong hands. Once things are more stable—once we can be sure that the message will only reach her—we’ll tell her that Theon’s safe, but hurt, and in Winterfell at least until he recovers. Our priority needs to be keeping Theon safe.”

“She’ll want to know details. If it were me, you’d want to know more than just ‘safe but hurt,’ I know you would.”

“If Theon knows who she is, then we can arrange a visit. Otherwise…I don’t want to scare him.”

“But seeing her might bring back memories of being Theon.”

“Or overwhelm him, and cause him to retreat further into Reek.”

Robb huffed. “Why can’t things just be easy? For once, I’d like something simple and straightforward that doesn’t have any catches or strings or unintended consequences or any of that, just _one_ thing. Why is that so hard?”

“You can always cuddle Grey Wind and scratch his ears. And you have help. You’ll have more when Jeyne and Mother get here, too.” Sansa rearranged herself so that she could rest her head on Robb’s shoulder. “And I’ll always be here. You know that, right? I’m not leaving, not until you send me away.”

“Never.” Robb’s voice had slipped into what Sansa thought of as his king voice, the tone he used to give orders, and she smiled at it. “I’m never going to send you away.”

“You might need to.”

“If Winterfell was burning and the price of water was your hand, I’d refuse.”

“Robb.” Sansa frowned at him. 

“Now, if you _wanted_ to get married, I’d let you. But I’m the king, aren’t I? I can be a little bit tyrannical if I want. Refuse all your suitors, forbid you to marry.”

Sansa laughed softly into Robb’s shoulder. “A fearsome tyrant. A terrible monstrous king, that’s what you are.”

“Haven’t you heard? I turn into a wolf at night and slaughter babies before the heart tree.”

“Oh? I hadn’t heard the second one.”

“It was all the rage in the Westerlands—the scary northmen who’ll murder and eat anyone they come across. Every village seemed to have a different bloody tale. Some of them seemed to enjoy thinking about all the horrible things we’d do to them.” Robb laughed. “Once, a village had heard about my marriage, and some of the men decided that they needed to rescue Jeyne from my villainous clutches. They didn’t manage to get into the camp, they were drunk and caught by the guards, but they were insistent that Jeyne needed to be freed. Even after she spoke to them, they were convinced that I had cast some sort of spell on her. You’d think the fact that we let them go the next morning unharmed would have convinced them that we weren’t horribly evil, but no. I’m sure they told everyone they met about how they saw us dismembering babies or something.”

Sansa hummed, curling further into Robb’s warm chest. “What are you going to do with Ramsay? Speaking of horribly evil monsters.”

“Execute him, obviously. Do you think I should have a trial for him? He confessed enough when he brought me to Theon to execute him, let alone all the testimony from the servants, but…I don’t know. I want to show the people that I’m not above the law, that they’re safe, but at the same time, it would be a sham, I already know how I’m going to rule.”

“If you had killed him during the battle, I don’t think it would have been a problem, but since he’s in the cells you should give him a trial. At the very least, I’m sure getting to watch him condemned would be catharsis for everyone. Except maybe Theon, I don’t know if it would help him or not to see Ramsay die.”

“And we can’t ask him, because he’ll just say what he thinks we want to hear.” Robb huffed. “I wish killing Ramsay would do anything to fix this.”

Sansa curled closer to Robb, silent. She had walked across the North to get to him, carried on only by the knowledge that Theon had sacrificed himself for her, the certainty that she couldn’t let his death be in vain. She’d been covered in mud and leaves and twigs, exhausted and starved and trembling, and she could still remember Robb’s exact tone when he said her name, the relief and shock and joy when he saw her. 

Everything before and after that was a blur. She still didn’t know how she got across the North, aside from the bone-deep determination that she had to. She had gotten to Robb and collapsed in his arms, and woke in his bed with Grey Wind curled up at her feet. 

For a moment, just as she woke, she had thought that it was Theon sleeping there. She had reached for him, and been met with Grey Wind’s wet nose and tongue on her palm. 

She took Robb’s hand in hers, squeezing gently. 

She drifted into sleep, and dreamed of Theon on those long, frozen nights, clinging to each other for faint traces of warmth; dreamed that they had both made it to Robb, exhausted and starved and half-dead and both of them safe and warm in Robb’s strong arms; dreamed of returning to Winterfell to find Mother and Father in the courtyard, Arya and Bran and Rickon running and shouting, Jeyne stitching in the glass gardens, Jon swinging at a training dummy with a wooden sword. Robb was young again, and he and Theon joined Jon, laughing and hooting and shoving each other. 

In her dream, she sat next to Jeyne in the gardens, the jonquils Robb had planted for her as a present one distant summer dancing in the faint breeze, their yellow heads bobbing happily. Lady laid her head on Sansa’s lap, distracting her from her needlework for a moment. 

In her dream, she was happy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, break's over, time for a Suffering

Reek laid awake in the dark room. Lady Sansa had come in and tucked a blanket around Reek, not even noticing that Reek wasn’t asleep, and she had—she had kissed Reek. Just on Reek’s temple, barely anything, but _still_. Why had she done that? 

The king’s dog was still curled around Reek. It was a little comforting to feel a dog’s fur and weight, like a reminder that Reek hadn’t gone too far from the kennels. Reek was still Reek, even though Reek was in a bed and had eaten far more food than Master would have ever allowed. 

Mostly, though, Reek was uncertain and confused. What was Reek supposed to do? The kitchens would be waking up; the first glimmers of dawn were just barely peaking over the horizon.

Maybe the king would want Reek to bring him breakfast. Or maybe Reek should go to Lady Sansa? Or maybe Reek should wait until Reek was summoned, until they gave Reek orders. 

But Reek was already in trouble. Reek had been bad yesterday, and it was only Lady Sansa’s mercy that had spared Reek. Reek had heard her screaming in the night. The king must have been punishing her instead of Reek.

Reek curled up tightly, trying to push away the awful crawling feeling in Reek’s gut, the one that reminded Reek that Reek was bad and terrible and horrible and deserved every bit of suffering that Master ever deigned to give Reek.

The dog nosed at Reek, licking Reek’s cheek. Reek reached up and patted the dog, Reek’s remaining fingers curling into the thick fur. 

Reek should go to the king and beg to be punished instead of Lady Sansa. Reek was good at begging, Master had made sure of it. Maybe…Reek should bring breakfast for the king, to show him that Reek wanted to be good. 

Why would Lady Sansa be punished instead of Reek? It didn’t make sense. Why would anyone give themselves up for Reek? Maybe it wasn’t Reek. That made sense. Reek’s lack of punishment wasn’t because Lady Sansa was being punished. Reek didn’t know what Lady Sansa could have done to anger the king, but clearly she had. Or maybe, maybe the king simply wanted her to hurt. That made the most sense. Master had sometimes punished Reek, or one of the servants, simply to hear them scream. Maybe the king didn’t want to damage Reek, and wasn’t sure how damaged Reek already was. 

But Reek was good at being hurt. It was what Reek was _for_. The king should hurt Reek instead, Reek would be much better at it than Lady Sansa. 

The thought of Lady Sansa being beaten made Reek want to be brave. 

Reek shouldn’t, of course. Reek was stupid and cowardly and trying to be brave only ever led to Reek being very, very bad and ruining everything, because Reek wasn’t brave, Reek couldn’t be brave, Reek was too stupid and useless to do anything right. 

“Reek,” Reek muttered. “Reek, weak, meek, freak, shriek, bleak…” 

The king’s dog raised his head and set it down on Reek’s lap. His eyes were large and sad. 

Reek took a deep breath, pushing the thoughts away. Reek didn’t need to think. Reek only needed to obey. 

The dog crossed the room, pawing at the chest against the wall. 

The king had told Reek that there were clothes for Reek in the chest, and he had wanted Reek to change clothes yesterday, when Master had given him Reek. So maybe it was right for Reek to change clothes.

Reek had to be good. Being good was one of the most important things about begging.

Reek opened the chest. There were a lot of clothes in there: at least ten linen shirts, three quilted doublets, a thick fur coat, hose…it looked more like Master’s clothing than anything Reek could be permitted to wear. Reek was scared to touch half of it. But the king had told Reek that the chest had clothes for Reek in it. 

Maybe they were in the bottom. Reek carefully unpacked the chest, laying out the fine clothing piece by piece. 

There was nothing left. All of the clothes in the chest were fine clothes, too fine for Reek, more suited for a Lord or a Prince. 

Did the king really want Reek to wear these? Maybe it was a test, to see if Reek would choose obedience or knowing Reek’s place. What would be best to please the king?

Maybe if Reek didn’t look, Reek wouldn’t notice that Reek was wearing clothes far too fine for Reek. Reek closed his eyes tightly, taking off the clothes that Lady Sansa and the king had given Reek, and trying not to think about how angry Master would be with Reek for being so very, very bad. 

The shirt was soft on Reek’s skin, and the doublet was warm. The hose was smooth against Reek’s scars and mangled flesh. 

Reek glanced down. Reek almost looked like a person. 

Reek took a deep breath and tried not to think. That was always Reek’s problem; Reek kept _thinking_ when Reek was supposed to be obeying. 

Reek slapped his cheek, for good measure. The pain was a relief, it gave Reek something to focus on. Master had been so kind, and stupid, ungrateful Reek had never appreciated having such a kind Master while Reek had him.

Lady Sansa was kind as well, so Reek could beg her for punishment, if Reek couldn’t beg well enough to be punished by the king. 

Reek slapped his cheek again, driving all the thoughts out. Reek needed to bring the king breakfast, that was what was important. 

The dog nosed at Reek’s hand, mouth closing gently around it and bringing it back down to Reek’s side. 

Reek took a deep breath and left the room. 

Reek had always been in Winterfell, and knew every hall and corridor, but with the king ruling instead of Master, there were many more people in the castle. Reek tried to stay out of sight and keep his head down. Nobody wanted to see Reek, and whenever Reek was in a crowd, Reek would start panicking. It was really best for everyone for Reek to stay out of sight. 

Reek slipped down the secret passage that led to the kitchens, only to find a girl already in them, going the other way. She was clearly a servant, her brown braids covered with a coarse scarf, her dress clean but a little threadbare. 

She blinked. “Lord Theon?” she said, squinting at Reek. 

The king and Lady Sansa had both called Reek _Theon_ as well. Reek shook his head. “Reek,” Reek told her. “I’m Reek.”

“R-right.” She had an odd expression, something like confusion. “Were you going to the kitchens?”

Reek nodded. “I’m bringing the king breakfast.”

She definitely looked confused now. “King Robb doesn’t like having breakfast brought to him.”

 _No._ Reek was being bad, Reek should have known, Reek was too stupid to do anything right. Reek should have waited for the king or Lady Sansa to give an order, should have gone to them and, and offered, asked them how Reek could serve them, that was what Reek was supposed to do, but Reek had gotten ideas and now Reek couldn’t be good, couldn’t do what Reek was supposed to, how many times had Master told Reek that Reek was stupid and slow? Reek must be, because Reek still hadn’t learned that—

The girl said something, but Reek couldn’t hear her. She disappeared down the corridor. 

Reek was alone. Reek’s fingers curled into the dirt floor of the corridor, pale spiders with missing legs. Tears dripped onto Reek’s hands, sliding down to form mud, coating Reek’s hands. That was better, that was what Reek was supposed to be, muddy and filthy and Reek, not the bathed creature wearing fine clothes, but covered in dirt and dressed in rags, what Reek was always meant to be. Master was right, Master was always right, why had Reek ever even thought that Reek could know what to do without being told? Reek wasn’t a person, just a stupid animal needing a heavy hand to learn what was right. 

Reek’s body heaved with a sob, tears sliding down. Reek scrubbed them away, streaking mud across his face. That was right. Reek was supposed to be muddy and filthy. 

Reek couldn’t even be good right. It was so simple to be good, Master had made sure Reek knew the rules, all Reek had to do was obey, and even then Reek managed to mess it all up. 

“There you are,” the king said. Reek’s head snapped up. No, no, no, Reek thought. The servant girl was at his elbow. 

“P,” Reek managed, “please…” Reek’s throat was closing up. Reek wasn’t even sure what Reek was asking for. 

“Shh,” the king said, wrapping one arm around Reek’s back and the other under Reek’s legs, lifting Reek against his chest. “It’s alright, let’s get you back upstairs.”

The dog was there, too, nosing at Reek’s dangling feet. His wet nose was cold on Reek’s skin. 

Reek wanted to bury his face in the king’s thick furs, to hide away, but that would dirty the king’s cloak and Reek had already been so bad…

“It’s alright,” the king said again, nudging Reek’s head into his furs. Reek clung to them, face buried in the thick, warm furs, surrounded by the scent of his new master. It was strangely comforting in a way that Master’s scent had never been. “There you go, you’re alright.”

But Reek wasn’t, Reek had been _bad_ , the king didn’t know that yet but he would, and then maybe he would punish Lady Sansa in front of Reek and make Reek watch, instead of just making Reek listen to her screaming, and Reek wouldn’t be able to beg, because Reek had been bad, and bad Reeks didn’t get to beg for mercy, only to scream…

Tears streaked through the mud on Reek’s face, dampening the king’s furs. 

“Shhh,” the king said, “shh, you’re safe, everything’s fine, I’ve got you. Just let it all out, that’s it.”

The king nudged a door open and led Reek into his bedchamber, setting Reek down on the bed. Reek slid off to kneel on the stone. The king hadn’t liked seeing Reek present for him, but Lady Sansa liked having Reek kneel beside her, so maybe this would please him better. Maybe Reek could salvage this, even a little bit. 

The king didn’t look pleased. Reek’s head dropped down, a crawling feeling in his gut. Everything Reek was doing was wrong, everything Reek was doing was bad, Reek was failing and everything was the wrong choice…

“Please,” Reek managed, staring down at his knees through the tears. Mangled fingers tensed and released. “Please, punish me.” Master always liked when Reek asked for punishment, even when Reek was being very bad and doing everything wrong. It was the one safety Reek had. No matter how bad Reek had been, asking for punishment meant that Master would forgive Reek and correct Reek and Reek could be good again. 

“Right, I’m going to get Sansa.”

 _“No!”_ Reek almost didn’t realize it was Reek who had said that. Shouted, really. Reek didn’t even know that Reek _could_ shout. “Please, master, please, punish me, not her, I’ll do anything, anything you want, just please don’t hurt her—“

“I’m not going to!”

“Please, I’m sorry, please punish _me!”_

“I won’t!” The king took a step back, towards the door and he was going to punish Lady Sansa and Reek couldn’t, couldn’t let that happen. Reek reached up and grabbed the king’s shirt, fingers twisting in the fabric. 

“Please, please, I’m better at it, I promise, it’s what I’m for—“

“ _Stay_ ,” the king ordered, pulling himself away from Reek’s grip. “Just stay here, don’t go anywhere.”

The king left, the door shutting behind him with a quiet and deafening click. Reek crumpled. 

“Please,” Reek whispered to the quiet room, starting to sob once again. 


End file.
